When we first spoke of Future,
I thought we were on the same page.
Dreams of happiness and comfort,
peace and togetherness.
But then we approached it again
and you instead spoke of money and travels,
and I realised it was
never the same.
When I mentioned having a home,
you first agreed that it was a need,
but only in a place
I would hate.
When I mentioned having a family,
you laughed at me and said ‘you wish’,
as though my feelings didn’t
matter to you.
When I was dreaming of you,
you were content dreaming of life without me.
I asked why I wasn’t
there with you,
and you said that I was
taking things too serious despite all our history.
Like I shouldn’t care that
we are temporary.
While I was lost in the
deep sea bright and clear in your eyes,
you were lost in thoughts
of real yachts
and a life that didn’t include me.
We were written in the same
fantasy book of a love stronger than love.
However, as we grew older,
our paces changed
and I disapeared chapters ahead of you.
